


Hidden Layers.

by louisdragme



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, High School, High School AU, M/M, slight angst, uni - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 02:04:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louisdragme/pseuds/louisdragme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>based off stuff going around tumblr</p><p>harry is marcels popular older brother, and takes it into his own hands when his brother comes home beaten and bruised</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hidden Layers.

Being a big brother to a nerd was a fairly hard life. Not that Harry was complaining, no, he'd never complain when it came to Marcel. See, Harry had always been in the popular group. Since he was a chubby little kid with stray curls to now in university with his open buttondowns and ink stained body. Marcel had never had such luck, it seemed, and it almost pained Harry to watch. Though, the way Marcel dressed himself was definitely different from what most people considered "cool", Harry still had no idea why people were so cruel.

They were both brought up by their single mother, and since she always worked, Harry was usually stuck babysitting Marcel. They grew up together rarely apart, and even as they were in their retrospective groups, (or, at least Harry was) they were still the best of friends.

When Louis came along, Harry was more than thrilled that him and Marcel got along. It became an unbreakable trio, no matter how much the two older lads were pestered and bugged about how "Marcel didn't fit in with them" and "he wasn't as attractive". Louis and Harry didn't really give a fuck, to put it rather simply, and only brought Marcel with them more often whenever they went out.

Granted, Marcel didn't drink and wasn't rather fond of tattoo's, nor did he smoke or like parties all that much. It made their hangouts rather plain, and they usually settled on a long day filled of random shows and laughs.

Basically, Marcel was that guy. That guy that girls and boys both dreamt about, the romantic one with a hidden layer of cheekiness. And, if not for the way Marcel dressed himself, it was almost positive that he'd have the cheerleaders all over him and some of the outted football players. But his large framed classes with tape in the middle blocked the true beauty of his eyes, and the thick layers of clothing didn't display his sculpted body, one that looked much like Harry's, with less tattoos. And, anyway, what was so wrong with slicked back hair? It wasn't  _crusty hard_ due to his hair gel, Marcel made sure of that. So why was it so bad?

So when Marcel came home with more than one bruise that could be considered innocent, it was safe to say that Harry was right pissed. He'd been sitting on the couch with Louis in his lap, arms wrapped around the smallers waist as they shared soft kisses. When they heard quiet footsteps, Harry had figured it was just one of their mates - Marcel didn't live in Harry's flat, and he'd usually knock when he came in. That was the politeness that Harry had taught him, and Harry often felt bad about it. If he'd taught his brother to be mean, maybe he wouldn't be picked on as much.

But when Louis pulls back and his blue eyes widen, Harry knows something else is going on, and Louis is pliant as Harry moves out from under him. Rising to his feet and spinning around, Harry's cheeks redden, and not in the  'I'm flattered' kind of way. More so in the 'I'm going to beat the shit out of everyone that did this' way. Quickly making his way over, Harry pulled Marcels broken glasses off his nose and softly cupped his bruised cheeks, glancing down to see a crumbled button up shirt and blood stained sweater vest.

"Who?" Is all he says before his younger brother is breaking down and choking out sobs, and Harry sighs as he pulls the lad close, "Just tell me, Marce, please," and he barely catches Marcel's mumbled words before he's pulling away and kissing his shiny hair, tugging on his worn brown boots and disappearing out the door.

Louis takes that as his queue and gets off the couch, pulling Marcel into his arms and carrying him down the hall and towards the bathroom, cleaning up the cuts and bruises, before allowing the lad to snuggle into his arms. He resembled Harry in such a crazy way, and Louis sighed as he kisses Marcel's temple. "It'll be okay."

And it is. At least, for them. Harry, on the other hand, finds himself storming up towards the high school he was at only two years before, knuckles white from fisting his hands with such intensity. It doesn't take long for him to find out where the people are - because, really? They're sitting out on the front curb with small shards of glass surrounding them, and that only angers Harry more. The clear lenses from Marcel's glasses.

It's wordless as Harry reaches down and grips one of their shirts, the one who seems to be the leader. The veins are popping out in his neck as he yells, and really, he knows he's already scaring them, because the others are shuffling back slightly. "What the fuck did he ever do to you?" And his voice is booming, even in open space, "If anything, he's much better than you, so what I'm thinking," a grin finds it's way to Harry's lips, and he drops the boy to the ground, shaking his head as he glances at the other. "Line up." His demand is a quick bark, but no one questions him.

Harry paces for a long moment, taking in the definitely weak boys, and he wonders how Marcel had even lost in a fight. Or, could it be even called a fight? It was clear Marcel would never fight back when he has such a kind heart. Unexpectedly, Harry swings one of his arms and watches as the lad still smoking stumbles back, immediately gripping at his nose, and Harry only smirks, taking a swing at one of the others, and the rest of them back down - because really, who wanted to get punched?

"You'd better leave him alone, or I'll make sure to bring people with me, you got it?" And they're nodding sheepishly, and Harry smiles, though its slightly evil. "Good. Test me, I'd love to see you guys again." 

He turns on his heel and stalks away, quickly making his way back to his flat, finding Louis and Marcel on the couch. The sight warms Harry's heart, and he makes his way over to pull the two lads close, pecking Louis' lips. "I don't think we have to worry anymore."

**Author's Note:**

> so yay ! it sucks and it was a quick drabble but anyway my tumblr is lovelystylin talk 2 me yoo


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